


Against Everything Else

by Cydersyrup



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Birthday Fluff, Covid Quarantine, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Kissing, M/M, soft bois, violating safety protocols for a bro, wear masks people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cydersyrup/pseuds/Cydersyrup
Summary: Summer birthdays suck, in Mark’s opinion. His friends are always off traveling, it’s hot as all hell, and school looms over his head in a constant reminder of inevitable suffering.And now because of a global pandemic, he has to spend what’s already a horrible day alone, completely isolated from society.“So, Mr. Cupcake,” Mark sighs, looking sadly at the tiny cake with a single unlit candle before him. “It’s just you and me.”
Relationships: Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 8
Kudos: 94





	Against Everything Else

**Author's Note:**

> So...it's been about 4 months in quarantine now and many people's birthdays have passed. The shelter-in-place order really sucks, but we're doin our best.  
> Setting's in the California Bay Area, where shit's really hitting the fan.  
> Please take care of yourselves.  
> Happy summer, y'all :)

“Hyung, you said this couldn’t possibly get any worse,” Mark groans, ignoring Taeyong’s wince as he drops his head against his desk. “And now it just got fucking worse.”

His brother sighs, expression freezing for a second from the poor wifi connection. _“Look, I’m really sorry, Markie. Believe me, I am. But honestly, it’d be safer for all of us if we stay where we are.”_

Right, because Mark’s heard the same thing from Donghyuck when the younger boy called him earlier. His little brother had made the same remark about personal safety, though with less sympathy and a lot more sass than Taeyong. Sometimes Mark really wishes that smartphones came with a feature that allows him to reach through the screen so he can strangle his demonspawn of a brother.

“Hyung,” Mark whines, raising his head to meet Taeyong’s soft glance through the screen. “I just wanna see _you_. I don’t mind not seeing Hyuck. He can go to hell.”

 _“Mark Lee,”_ Taeyong says sternly. _“I didn’t raise you to be so goddamn rude.”_

“It’s true, though!” Mark protests. “Hyuck was being mean! Anyways, I don’t mind not seeing him for another couple months, but I haven’t seen you or Taeil-hyung in forever. I miss you guys.”

Taeyong sighs. _“We miss you too, Markie. And I promise, if things get better by Christmas, Taeil and I will come visit you and make you your favorite stuffing.”_

Mark perks up, because even with the possibility of that promise being empty, the thought of having Taeyong’s Christmas stuffing is enough to quell some of the growing dissent inside him. Mark has physically fought people (Donghyuck and Yuta) over that stuffing before, and he’ll gladly do it again. That split lip and bite scar on his arm are the markings of a warrior.

“You swear on the stuffing?” he asks, watching Taeyong critically. “You’ll come visit me, right hyung? It’s so boring and I’m lonely.”

 _“I swear on the stuffing,”_ Taeyong promises, making a little ‘x’ over his heart to seal the deal. _“But just know that we all love you, Markie. Even Hyuck, in his own twisted little way I guess. Happy birthday.”_

 _“Happy birthday!”_ Taeil calls from the background, before popping into the frame. His hair’s a little messy and he’s holding a swiffer in one hand. _“Congratulations on living another year, Mark! Keep doing well in school and stay safe! We love you!”_

“Love you too, hyung,” Mark chuckles, watching in amusement as his brother-in-law waddles off, almost tripping over the ties of his undone apron.

 _“Somehow he always finds the warmest days to do chores,”_ Taeyong says with a shake of his head. _“I’m gonna go make sure he doesn’t knock over the houseplants again. I’ll call you again soon, okay Markie? Take care!”_

Mark sighs and tucks his phone into some obscure corner of his desk. As if being on his own as a struggling grad student isn’t enough, his family is scattered all over the state, with no chance of visiting him due to the shelter-in-place orders.

If Mark had thought that his birthdays used to be horrible solely because it’s in the summer, this whole covid pandemic just opened his eyes to a whole new world of SUCK.

Now, not only are his family members scattered, but his friends—even the ones living nearby—can’t come visit him because of the high risk of disease transmission. Johnny, who used to tutor Mark in high school, is cooped up across the Bay with his husband. Jeno and Jaemin, who Mark had known since elementary school, are stuck in Socal. Even Yukhei—Mark’s best bro and crush since junior high—is being kept under lock and key by Kun, and he lives only ten minutes away.

( _“I’m really sorry, Mark,”_ Yukhei said regretfully when Mark called him the other day. _“I really wanna come see you, but Kun will skin me by my balls if I even try stepping foot outta the house.”_ )

Under normal circumstances, Yukhei would jump at the chance to see Mark. In all the years that they’ve known each other, Yukhei has never missed Mark’s birthday or Christmas parties. He would always be there, a beacon of broad smiles and loud laughter, looming over practically everyone else in the room. Mark doesn’t know when Yukhei became a type of fixture in his life, but a couple months of isolation has given him more than enough time to realize that.

It never really is a celebration without Yukhei around. The rooms are too quiet. The atmosphere not bright enough.

And Mark misses him. 

God, he fucking misses Yukhei. Even if Mark has to go back to eighth grade and get concussed again from the taller boy tackling him to the ground, he’ll gladly take it over this crippling loneliness. He’ll take anything if it meant he could just see Yukhei. Or just someone. Anyone.

Even Donghyuck would do, and Mark wants to kill him about 99% of the time.

The apartment is sparse and bleak, and the setting sun casts long shadows over his mostly-barren living room as Mark walks over to his kitchen. Even if he has practically nothing to do at the moment, it’s still better to keep himself busy with something other than sitting around moping all day.

His eye catches the whisk sitting in the drying rack by the sink, and Mark suddenly has an idea. It’s not a bad idea—a little depressing maybe—but not a bad way to pass time. 

Mark has never considered himself a talented baker—that has always been Taeyong’s forte—but he’s not Donghyuck, who once set a stove on fire.

After a couple minutes of rummaging through his kitchen, Mark manages to find enough ingredients to whip together a small chiffon sponge cake. In the process, he uses up all the sugar he has left and ends up baking the batter in a small glass mixing bowl because he doesn’t have a proper cake pan. The cake rises as it should, so he knows he didn't fuck anything up _too_ badly, and cools off just enough within an hour. Mark finds some old birthday candles and a lighter in a nearby drawer, and pops a half-melted candle unceremoniously in the center of the barely-cool cake.

“So, Mr. Cupcake,” Mark sighs, looking sadly at the tiny cake with a single unlit candle before him. “It’s just you and me.”

Mr. Cupcake doesn’t say anything back. Not like it can anyways—it’s a fucking CAKE. Mark heaves another sigh as he picks up his lighter and half-heartedly flicks it on.

“Happy fucking birthday to me, I guess,” he mutters as a pathetic little flame lights up the candle. 

At the moment, it’s just Mark—alone in his dim apartment, sitting at his table with a tiny little cake in front of him that probably doesn’t even taste that good. 

No party poppers or obnoxious whooping from Donghyuck.

No thoughtful presents wrapped in perfect, pretty paper from Taeyong.

No cash or gift cards from Jeno and Jaemin because they procrastinated until the last minute to get Mark something.

No special birthday dinner from Johnny and Jaehyun that they spent days working on.

It’s kind of pathetic, Mark thinks. The most festive thing he has going on for him at the moment is Mr. Cupcake, which is now being dotted with wax as the candle steadily burns away. He’d better blow it out quick, or the candle is going to burn down to the cake and set it on fire.

Mark just barely manages to blow out the candle when there’s a sudden sharp rap against his door, and he nearly falls out of his chair.

“Who—” It’s dark outside already, and Mark hasn’t been expecting visitors. Sure, having someone visit him would be nice, but the more paranoid part of Mark’s brain warns him that it could be an intruder. And worse, they could bring covid into his house.

So Mark’s default plan of action is to quietly step up to the door, see who the hell is bothering him, and then tell them to fuck off.

One look through the peephole though, and that plan flies right out the window, taking some of Mark’s common sense along with it.

“Dude!” Mark exclaims as he throws the door open. “No fucking way.”

Yukhei stands there, his broad frame covered in a thick jacket and face hidden behind a mask and glasses. To the untrained eye, he might look like any other person out on the street, but Mark would know that modelesque build anywhere. 

“Mark Lee, my dude!” Yukhei hollers, entering Mark’s apartment without further invitation. “Hey! I missed ya!”

“You actually—you—oh my god.” Mark can’t even pull a coherent sentence together because his mind is running a million miles an hour and his poor mouth can’t keep up. Yukhei is here. Yukhei is actually right here, standing in front of Mark, which he’s NOT supposed to be doing but does anyway because he’s Yukhei fucking Wong.

Yukhei grins, pulling off his mask and glasses, shedding his jacket, and peeling off his gloves before wrapping Mark in a bone-crushing hug. “Happy birthday, Mark!”

“Oh my god!” Mark wheezes when Yukhei squeezes him a tad too hard. “Yukhei! Dude!”

“Don’t tell Kun I came here,” Yukhei murmurs against Mark’s ear. “I’m not supposed to be out of the house. He’ll kill me if the virus doesn’t.”

Mark stifles a giggle as he finally manages to hug Yukhei back. “Then why’re you here?”

Yukhei pulls away, grinning so wide his mouth nearly stretches to his ears. “What else would I sneak out of the house in the middle of a pandemic for?”

“Er…” Mark goes through all the possible scenarios that would result in Yukhei escaping his overbearing eldest brother and biking halfway across this part of town just to find him. The answer feels obvious, but Mark just can’t quite put his finger on it. “I dunno, man. You tell me.”

Yukhei rolls his eyes fondly. “For you, dummy. It’s your birthday.” He pulls out a small paper box from his back pocket and holds it out to Mark. “It’s not much, because I literally can’t go shopping for shit nowadays, but hey, hope you like it."

Mark wants to break down and cry, because his day (or what’s left of it) just got a hell of a lot better. He takes the box from Yukhei and takes off its lid, eyes immediately growing wide when he sees the contents inside.

“Yukhei, you—”

“Handmade and embroidered pre-shitstorm,” Yukhei says proudly as Mark gingerly picks up the watermelon-printed face mask. “I made it myself! With some help, of course, but yeah! I thought you might like it.” He ducks his head a little, looking suddenly shy. “Do...do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” Mark echoes dumbly. Hell, he LOVES it. He’s so happy over his beautiful little mask he could kiss Yukhei stupid right now. He wants to kiss Yukhei so badly.

Hell, he’s just going for it. Mark has all the time in the world to regret his actions later.

“Yukhei.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Yukhei blinks, as if Mark’s just asked him to balance a chemical equation. “Uh, sure, dude. I mean, yeah, that’s totally cool—” 

He doesn’t get to finish, because Mark is lunging forward, grabbing onto Yukhei’s tank top and pulling him into a bruising kiss. It’s not graceful, definitely a little awkward with the less-than-ideal angle and how hard their lips are pressed against each other, but Mark feels so happy he thinks he might float away.

Yukhei is grinning when they part. “I don’t think that’s exactly following all the safety procedures for this pandemic, Mark,” he teases.

“Oh, shut up.” Mark’s blushing so hard he can feel the heat all the way in his scalp. “I fucking missed you, dude. And like this, fuck, this is so nice I fucking love you.” His words register only after he blurted them out, and Mark immediately slaps his hands over his mouth. “Shit. Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. I mean I did, but that’s not what I meant. I just—”

Yukhei is watching him with an amused glint in his eye, and Mark cuts himself off before he embarrasses himself further. 

“You love me,” Yukhei says calmly, like he’s just commenting on Mark’s rug and not how he just basically confessed to Yukhei’s face.

“Well, yeah.” Mark forces himself to look the taller in the eye, because he’s a respectful human being. “Like, yeah. You know what I mean.”

“I love you too.” 

Mark balks. “You’re not just saying that because I just kissed you, right?”

Yukhei shakes his head. “Nope. Wanted to tell you that since high school, but you were too in your head to notice.”

"High school?" Mark squeaks, raising a hand to cover his face. "That long?"

"Yep. College too. And now grad school."

Mark groans. He gets that sometimes he's not the most observant person, but _come on_. This is just embarrassing. Almost ten years, and he didn't even realize that his feelings were reciprocated. That has to be some kind of record.

"I'm sorry I'm stupid," Mark mutters into his hand. Yukhei laughs, loud and hearty, and wraps his arms around Mark’s waist. Mark doesn't even have time to react before a hand pulls his own away from his face, and Yukhei is leaning in for a proper kiss. It's sweet, slow, and everything Mark imagines kissing Yukhei to be. Yukhei's lips move tenderly against his, caressing him with their plushness, and Mark absolutely _melts_. 

It’s probably a bad idea to be so close to Yukhei, who’s not even supposed to be here right now, but the logical side of Mark’s brain has officially shut off the moment Yukhei coaxes his mouth open to deepen their kiss. This kiss is slower, more sensual, and Mark loses himself in the feeling, his mouth moving against Yukhei’s on pure instinct alone. His hands are bunched in Yukhei’s shirt, and Yukhei holds Mark like he’s the most precious person in the world.

And for this moment, Mark believes him.

“Will you be staying a little longer?” Mark asks, holding Yukhei closer and resting his head against the other’s chest. “I missed you so much.”

Yukhei chuckles. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Kun will murder you.”

“He’ll have to catch me first,” Yukhei replies easily, leaning forward to press a kiss against Mark’s forehead. “But for now, I’m here for you.”

* * *

So okay, summer birthdays in general kind of blow. And Mark initially hated this birthday in particular because he’s alone and the entire world is going to shit outside of his little quarantine bubble.

But now, curled up with Yukhei on his oversized bean bag and tearing apart a sponge cake together between kisses, Mark finds himself reevaluating that sentiment.

The summer still sucks, yeah.

But his birthday doesn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe, everyone! (^v^)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Cydersyrup)  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/Cydersyrup)


End file.
